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There are two good reasons to travel. You can visit new places and learn about different cultures, or you can get away from your day to day life, party hard, and hook up on a holiday romance. When life’s been a stress, I prefer the second reason.
　　
　　Far from home, in an exotic location, it’s funny how easily you can convince yourself you’ve just met your soulmate. Even if, after a few nights of passion, you’re on a plane deleting his number from your mobile; because those relationships never work back home.
　　
　　When people get away from the daily grind, there up for action they’d never consider at home. There’s no place where that’s more true than in Las Vegas. As outrageous as The Hangover is, a few of its scenes could come from a documentary.
　　
　　I visited a club in Vegas where a midget stood on the bar, pouring shots of liqueur down the throats of woman who were lying at his feet. The chicks – who were on a hen’s night – ended up doing topless body shots for the whole crowd to see.
　　
　　My favourite visit to Vegas was when a guy friend dragged me to the biggest strip joint in the town. With three hundred women working the poles, there was something for everyone. It was especially interesting at changeover time, when hundreds of women clocked off, and the new shift took over.
　　
　　I met a Russian dancer who was keen to chat with me. I think she would have spoken to anyone without a penis, really, after a twelve hour shift of being groped and ogled by drunk blokes.
　　
　　She didn’t escape the ogling when she joined me. She was probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I couldn’t help but stare. Normally, things would have ended there but this was Vegas, and I was on holiday…